Post by Andrew Poleyn on Sept 17, 2009 19:54:29 GMT -5
Andrew sat on the steps of the Arch. It was becoming where he went to think. The guys' dorm in the Gryffindor house was too loud and trafficked, there was nowhere in the whole building that someone could just sit and think and not get seen. It was somewhat funny, seeing as people passed in and out going to or from town. The difference, of course, was that people weren't looking for you here, they either already had their own plans or they were reveling in the things they'd done.
Andrew had just heard the rumor that seventh-years didn't have anything like college or graduate-degree work or anything at school. Once you were done with seventh year you were out, had to go find a job. Not entirely bad. I mean, I did crime for a while and that worked out pretty well for me. For the little bit of time I did end up doing it. He looked at the silver on his hands and his wrist. Money won't be an issue. The issue will be getting caught. Getting caught or a job going bad and me getting eaten.
He knew that he could probably find a job somewhere, or find a way of living somehow...but the thought that he had to face the real world scared him in a way no Lycan, acromantula, or dragon ever did, or likely ever would (though that wasn't certain).
The afternoon sun was still fairly high in the sky, and the wind was still warm. If wizards played with frisbees, there would have been a bunch of frisbees floating across the courtyard, across the grounds, between people. This was one of those things Muggles were better at, he thought. Having simple harmless fun. Always with wizards it had to be scary, or overthrilling, or any number of other things. "I'll slip through the cracks. Find something I can do where I don't have to have a lot of OWLs. Where I can get by on my charm. Where I can have fun and get paid."
He laughed in spite of himself. "Right. I'm not gonna be a pro Quidditcher. What else can I do?"
Andrew had just heard the rumor that seventh-years didn't have anything like college or graduate-degree work or anything at school. Once you were done with seventh year you were out, had to go find a job. Not entirely bad. I mean, I did crime for a while and that worked out pretty well for me. For the little bit of time I did end up doing it. He looked at the silver on his hands and his wrist. Money won't be an issue. The issue will be getting caught. Getting caught or a job going bad and me getting eaten.
He knew that he could probably find a job somewhere, or find a way of living somehow...but the thought that he had to face the real world scared him in a way no Lycan, acromantula, or dragon ever did, or likely ever would (though that wasn't certain).
The afternoon sun was still fairly high in the sky, and the wind was still warm. If wizards played with frisbees, there would have been a bunch of frisbees floating across the courtyard, across the grounds, between people. This was one of those things Muggles were better at, he thought. Having simple harmless fun. Always with wizards it had to be scary, or overthrilling, or any number of other things. "I'll slip through the cracks. Find something I can do where I don't have to have a lot of OWLs. Where I can get by on my charm. Where I can have fun and get paid."
He laughed in spite of himself. "Right. I'm not gonna be a pro Quidditcher. What else can I do?"